Potters and Their Clay
by Thunderwrath
Summary: Their love is like how a potter molds clay, giving it life, nourishing it; forming it with her hands. The passion of that love is the heat that strengthens the clay and devotion is the will to make another pot if the previous one breaks.


**Potters and Their Clay**

**By Thunderwrath**

**_Summary:_**_ Their love is like how a potter molds clay, giving it life, nourishing it; forming it with her hands. The passion of that love is the heat that strengthens the clay and devotion is the will to make another pot if the previous one breaks._

**_ A/N: Well, here's a one-shot from me to you._**

I was never good with words. To me, words are empty; they are fragile, volatile. You spit out one wrong word and the message gets screwed. They never get the job done. That's why I prefer actions. With actions, I get to spell out my intentions more clearly. There's no frilly, indirect mumbo-jumbo that would confuse whoever I was faced with. All they'd get out of me was pure, unadulterated truth. I won't mess your head with confusing speech patterns and what-not; if you didn't get the message, it's your problem. That dumb-ass milkman Takeda is a perfect example. Damn fool doesn't know when to give up. I thought I made it perfectly clear that I didn't want him in my life because he's a pest. But then, there are others who do get the message and her understanding mirrors in those blood red-eyes of hers. How she reacts to that message is what throws me off. She's like puzzle, I can't crack; a door that I don't know how to open though she insists that I am the key. I just wish; that her actions were like mine, that they'd stop causing this aching in my chest. Believe me; I don't have a cardiac disease or anything. I'm as healthy as a horse! My work as a potter gets me by; it provides me an excellent way to express myself and make a living out of it. I don't have a family. I was orphaned at an early age but it doesn't bother me. I'm not lonely because I'm used to it. The peace that I get from living alone isn't unnerving, in fact, I think it's calming. I won't find solace in a busty little town up north from where I live. The tranquility is my companion. People are just too confusing. I'm at peace and that's why I don't think I need anyone right now. I hear the galloping of a horse accompanied by a sweet voice calling out my name. The smell of dust unsettled permeates the air. It looks like my guest has arrived; who am I to resist her call? Maybe I'll find some sort of answer to all this confusion. I whisper to myself as if to answer her call, "Shizuru.."

-break-

I search the small patch of land for any hint of midnight-blue. I had her name a few minutes ago. I know that she is expecting me. I know that what I'm feeling right now is not something as volatile and as fickle as how she describes "words". A navy-haired girl steps out of the hut and greets me with a pat on the shoulder. I know that she dislikes contact so she settles for little acts of acknowledgement: a pat to the shoulder, a caress to the hand, cheeks and my favorite: a brief kiss to the cheek. She is a bit sheltered so it took me a bit of time before I got her to notice me, let alone, touch and talk to me so openly. The girl that I like is a woman of action. That's why, it worries me greatly. How do you convince someone that what you feel for them is real without the use of words? I sometimes tease her to get her to speak or to draw an adorable blush from her cheeks. But then, I do all of that, with words. I am a student of the finer arts at Fuuka Women's University and the daughter of the wealthy Fujino family. I am expected to have extensive knowledge on grammar, literature and culture. It is where I draw inspiration as an artist after all. That's why I am at a loss on how I can properly express what I really feel for her. Oh, you might be wondering how I stumbled upon falling in "love" with this gorgeous potter? Let me enlighten you then.

Since I did say that I am an Arts student, it is only right for me to discover the different sorts of arts around our town. I'd gotten to know a variety of painters, sculptors, dancers, writers and even some singers and poets. In my quest to further heighten my understanding, I rode out with the consent of my supportive parents and came upon a solitary hut just beyond the outskirts of our little town. It is there that I met my Natsuki. If I recall correctly, she was painting one of her goods on that day. Her emerald gaze was fixated upon the dried clay as her wrists flicked stroke after stroke with precision. Never have I seen such devotion and so I decided to get to know her ideals, her beliefs. I didn't know I would want more. I bought one of Natsuki's ceramic jars that day. I was surprised that she charged me less than those I had bought in town. The white jar had the hand-drawn painting of a snake trying to charm a wolf. Or did I get that wrong? It would seem like the wolf was trying to get away from the snake but was failing miserably judging by the tight coil that the snake's body had around the canine's torso. I admired her subtle use of colors and the way her lines fused together to recreate the two beasts. It looked like the wolf and the snake were meant to become one. It intrigued me but her expression after I paid her intrigued me more. I gave her a gold coin and she looked at me with a look of disbelief. She was giving back the money to me saying that it was too much. I insisted though and asked her to tell me her story as to make it even. She led me into her home and offered me what little she had. I made myself comfortable on a small chair by fire, thanking her for her hospitality as she handed me a cup of tea. "Such a precious girl", I thought to myself. The cup was exquisite by itself. I assumed that she had made it as well. My companion sat herself beside me, on the floor. She regarded me with a look. She raised a dark eyebrow at me as if willing me to get on with my queries. _My potter didn't want to waste time, fufu._ I coughed to break the silence and stared right into her clear, emeralds.

-break-

"What made you go into pottery, miss..?" Shizuru trailed off not knowing what to call the girl before her.

"Natsuki. My name's Natsuki."

Shizuru's eyes widened for a second at the low husk that was the potter's voice. She wanted that voice to say her name; more than once if possible.

"Then call me Shizuru, Natsuki." She gave the potter a genuine smile and the latter nodded before continuing.

"It's what I like to do." The potter gazed at the pile of unfinished jars in the corner. The potter's eyes turned soft as if she were looking at her own children. There was no trace of abandonment on them though they were incomplete. The artist assumed that her host took time to dust them off regularly.

"If I enjoy it; I'll make something good out of it. It feeds me every day so I try to become better at it." She breaks her speech with a dejected sigh and continues, "I mean... this work is all I am right? It's my reason to live."

"Then your art is not something you love to do? It's all because of instinct? Survival?" This was not the answer that Shizuru was expecting.

"Well, yeah. If you think about it, I won't have this hut if I stopped kneading my clay. I wouldn't even have met you if I wasn't a potter." The girl's cheeks became stained with pink at this admission. "I mean, you're different from all my other clients.. I guess."

"How different am I, Natsuki?"

Her host simply turned her back to her and continued to work on some of the clay on her table. Shizuru smiled and bade her potter good-bye, thanking her for the tea and the jar.

She was back at the hut the next day. Shizuru liked talking to Natsuki. It felt like a breath of fresh air from the busy and fast-paced life in town that was smothering her; though she did not show it. Seasons came and went, Shizuru would visit Natsuki's cottage everyday to simply chat with the hard-working potter. Natsuki did not seem to resent her presence, in fact, day-by-day, the smile on her face would grow as they bid each other farewell. Shizuru's heart would flutter every time the navy-haired girl smiled and laughed with her. Natsuki's would jump every time she would notice the crimson gaze on her.

-break-

The rolling of Natsuki's potter wheel was the only sound that echoed in the small space called her home. The grinding of smooth stone upon stone gave life to the place. Shizuru was sitting near the door, sketching the area outside of Natsuki's home. She had taken a liking to the potter's pad because this was one of the very few places where she could feel at ease.

"Natsuki?"

"Hmm?" The response was immediate. It was as if Natsuki was waiting for her to start a conversation.

"What about love?"

The rolling of stone ceased to a halt. The atmosphere suddenly grew tense. Shizuru closed her sketch pad and turned to Natsuki, staring at her as if willing her to answer the question.

"Shizuru, what does love have anything to do with pottery?" retorted the potter. She really didn't have the time to worry over such things. Love caused unnecessary trouble and she didn't want trouble with Shizuru.

"I believe that love is an excellent source of inspiration when it comes to art!"

Shizuru's exclamation was passionate. It was a flame wanting to incinerate Natsuki's defenses. Still, Natsuki kept her cool façade and held her ground.

"Well let me break it to you. If you ask me, love won't feed an empty stomach; so I just don't bother with it. Aside from that, it's a pretty uncertain thing!" Bingo. Shizuru could feel her determination falter for a second but she didn't let up. Natsuki did not miss the change in the woman. "Damn it." thought Natsuki.

"How can you say that?" The fawn-haired woman stood in front of Natsuki, putting her hands on her hips. _Tell me, Natsuki. Do you not want my love?_

"It's because of FEELINGS! "

A creaking of wood against the cold stone floor, the sound of clay splotching to the ground and the stunning emeralds now eye level with hers alerted Shizuru that Natsuki had gotten up from her work stool.

"Pardon?" The outburst caught Shizuru off-guard. She has never seen the potter's eyes glow like two shining beacons. The younger girl was usually pretty calm and laid-back about everything.

"Feelings… " Navy hair waved off to the wash basin in the farther side of the house. The girl was now wiping the clay off her hands. She gave off a sigh and continued, "I hate the fact that to most people, _love_ is only a feeling; a source of passion... and feelings? God knows that those are always fleeting, changing. Who knows how many hearts are broken with every tick of a second?" She sat back down and breathed deeply. Shizuru continued to watch her with a new-found respect. She did not expect the woman to have such a view on love. Artists like herself, regarded love as a trivial matter in art like it was a material that could be consumed to fuel their works; but this one, this lonely potter, was different. "I don't want a love game." Natsuki sat back down, took some of her clay, shaped it into a heart and gave it to Shizuru. "I want something to hold, to become proud of. Like how a potter would feel when she molds her clay." Emeralds shifted to focus on crimson. Shizuru drew herself closer to the sitting potter and knelt down in front of her.

"I hope I can change your mind." With those words, she gave a brief kiss to the potter's lips before taking off.

Natsuki touched her lips, still feeling Shizuru's on them. "What did she mean?"

-break-

The sun sets beyond the horizon signaling the end of another day. Shizuru dismounted her horse and tied its reins around a tree near Natsuki's lodgings. She did not know what came upon her the last time she was here but she did come to apologize to Natsuki. She lets herself in and found the younger girl preparing clay. _"Is work all she ever does?" _Shizuru sighed and moved closer. Natsuki who had her back to the door was contemplating deeply, _"Love, huh? Maybe that's what I'm feeling..Is love supposed to be like a pot?" _

"Natsuki.." It sounded more like a whisper to the wind but the navy-haired girl turned around anyway as her ears caught of her name. Natsuki's eyes widened at the sight of the other girl. Shizuru braced herself for the harsh words, _"Get out! After what you did to me? I don't wanna see you anymore!"_

But they did not come.

"Shizuru! I didn't expect you to come here this late! Were you excited about me teaching you how to make a pot? I thought we scheduled that tomorrow.." The younger girl proceeded to fuss over preparing the materials that they needed; not seeing the fawn-haired woman's expression of disbelief.

Did the other girl want to forget what happened to them? Did her action make Natsuki feel awkward about her being here? She tried to clear her thoughts. She wasn't here for pottery lessons. She wanted Natsuki's forgiveness.

"Natsuki.. I-"

"Make yourself at home!" The younger girl had cut her off. Maybe now wasn't the time to deal with this. Maybe she should just let herself enjoy Natsuki's presence while she still wanted her. Shizuru decided to push the negative thoughts to the back of her head and sit down near Natsuki's work table.

_What about love? _The question resounded itself once again in Natsuki's head. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. _I know what love is. _

With a new resolve, she turned to face Shizuru, walking over to her. She looked right into the older girl's blood red eyes; lifting her own rough, calloused hand to wrap it around Shizuru's smoother ones. The latter stood frozen. Natsuki kissing each knuckle was the last straw for the poor girl before her brain short-circuited. _Kami, what did I do to deserve this? _The smile that adorned Natsuki's face after the sweet gesture caused Shizuru to blush. She really wasn't expecting the excessive display of affection from the dark-haired girl. Natsuki gave Shizuru's arm a small tug to snap her out of her thoughts. The two girls turned their attention to the prepared clay on the potter's work table.

Natsuki positioned herself behind Shizuru, setting her arms upon the cool surface, effectively trapping Shizuru between the table and her body. _"I'll be able to keep close watch over her progress this way. Nothing more! Just that!" _But was it really just that? The older girl noticed the blushing potter's pouted lips, brows furrowed in concentration. _She was trying to resolve a conflict in her head._ She breaks the other's musings with a lilting tease. "Ara..Whatever dirty thought could have caused my Natsuki to blush? I bet it involves a lot of physical exertions, this table and my-"

Shizuru's speech halted when she felt Natsuki's hand hover above her own. The latter took them and placed them over the clay.

"Now, do what I do…" The younger girl was rolling clay upon the flat surface smeared with moisture. Shizuru mimicked her actions while Natsuki rested her hands upon Shizuru's waist. A soft whisper to the ear followed, "Kneading ensures that the water in the clay spreads. We want it to spread even because we'll be heating this later on to remove the water…" Shizuru can smell the clay and soil, Natsuki reminded her so much of the richness of the earth. Natsuki was drowning herself in the scent of Shizuru's hair. The older girl felt a puff of air on her neck as Natsuki let out quiet whisper, "_Love is precious and all the good times and the bad times must be evened out."_

Time dragged on. The quiet reverie was broken when Natsuki pulled away and took the kneaded clay to her wheel. She motioned for Shizuru to come over and patted the top of the stool. The fawn-haired girl set herself upon it and placed her foot on the pedal like she had seen Natuki do as the younger girl knelt down behind her. The wheel started to turn as Shizuru continued to press her foot against the pedal. The artist tried to mold the clay but the wheel spun faster and material contorted into odd shapes. Sensing Shizuru's discomfort and struggle, Natsuki decided to step in.

_"Ah, her fingers are shaking.." _The potter placed her hands on top of Shizuru's quaking ones.

_"Natsuki..What are you doing to me?" _The clay started to take a more concrete form as Natsuki's skilled hands assisted Shizuru's. The older girl became ecstatic. To add to her excitement, Natsuki shifted her body, causing both of them to flush against each other. _"I can feel her breath on my ear!" _Shizuru was blushing madly but her object of affection couldn't see it as she husked, "_Love is a commitment between two people._" Natsuki intertwined their fingers as they continued shaping the clay together; "_Where the other one fails, her partner will mend... They give life to love"; _A whimper escaped Shizuru's lips and her crimson-eyes turned clay starts to form into a jar. The wheel stopped turning and the potter detached from her soon-to-be-lover yet again. She picked up the molded jar and placed it in the kilt and watched the flames. Shizuru rose from her seat and directed her vision to the fire dancing in those forest green eyes. She gasped when she felt those green eyes stare deep into her soul; too ashamed of being caught, Shizuru flicked her gaze to the flames roaring beneath the stone kilt. Natsuki chuckled at the display before her; happiness blossomed in her chest and a knot formed in her throat. _This is love. _She encircled her arms around the honey-haired girl, resting her chin on her shoulder as they enjoyed the soft glow of the flames warming their skin. She gave a playful nibble to the shell of Shizuru's ear and earned a hoarse gasp, _"Passion… and I'm not just talking about sex here..."_ The older girl nudged the potter's ribs to stop the girl from teasing her_..."It's the heat that strengthens the clay...it enables that love to retain its form."_

After what seemed like hours, Natsuki once again broke her hold on Shizuru; this time, to take out the jar they made. As Shizuru marveled upon their creation, her grip loosens and the jar breaks into a hundred shards. The honey-haired girl was distraught. Tears began to flow from her eyes as she realized the gravity of what she had done. The memory of when she had kissed Natsuki without her permission replayed in her head. She didn't want to let go of something they had just found. It was too early! It was-

Natsuki's quiet chuckle and the warm body that wrapped itself around her broke off her pessimistic thoughts. Soft lips pressed against her and a deep voice reassured her that it was alright to make mistakes because, "_devotion is the will to try again. To make another pot if the previous one breaks."_

**_A/N:_**_ Watching a full-minute of people just holding hands from a French Movie gave me this idea. Thank you for reading! Leave a review if you liked it!_


End file.
